"You're an "E" away from 'H-O-R-S-E'," Jim

"You're an "E" away from 'H-O-R-S-E'," Jim said. "Now you have to do a Vince Carter windmill slam with a split landing. If you fail, that sponge cake is mine." A split? Ever since

gym class he'd hated the splits. Ted had been bullied by a flexible bi-curious woman with really big deltoids. She taunted Ted while doing the splits, calling him a

panty-waisted nincompoop, a nimrod's nimrod, and worse. But now, 10 years later, Ted had the biggest deltoids money could buy, and he was outside the flexible bi-curious woman's

rifle range, so he decided to prance around shirtless outside of the beauty salon. All activity in the boutique came to a screeching halt. The women screeched, terrified by Ted's

Gorilla-like body. Ted worked out daily for at least two hours at the gym. Madame Dujardin, the owner, was resigned to Ted being proud of his abs.

Ted would pick up his post in the morning & flex his biceps as he opened his post box then 'nonchalantly' ruffle the junkmail along his washboard chest. Mme Dujardin would role her

(or roll her) dice to divine whether today would be a good day to tell Ted that he was a vain pig. Today the dice indicated that it was fortuitous, so Mme Dujardin got on her high

horse, Ted, & calmly talk him down; constantly murmuring reassurances that he was a unicorn, a fine strong unicorn, flying across rainbows. When I was sure he was calm, I told him

the hard truth--its father was a rhino. The unicorn went ballistic, impaling everything in sight and got itself stuck in the trunk of a Jabuticaba tree. After freeing itself